Forgotten
by cureno
Summary: England is surrounded by the supernatural on a daily basis, and finds nothing strange about it. Today is no different, if you choose to discount the mysterious woman he meets.


England could always see the supernatural, that was a given. Being the embodiment of a country that still largely believed in the stuff of fairy tales did that to you. (He also could cast magic, but that part isn't relevant). In addition to his own mystical friends, he had also even bathed with some of the supernatural beings at Japan's place. They were actually quite nice, as opposed to the common depiction of them being 'monsters.' Really, England was quite acclimated to the magic side of the world.

And, today, England was sleeping over at Japan's house. The two had only been relaxing under the host's kotatsu, nothing else. Nonetheless, when he felt an otherworldly presence watching them, he felt no surprise, much less fear.

"England-san, is there something wrong? You keep looking over my shoulder," Japan questioned after some time.

England, without hesitation, mentioned the apparition of a blonde woman dressed in purple peering from the doorway. To that Japan insisted that he lived alone and asked if England would prefer the sliding doors closed at night.

Although for a second the Asian nation entertained the idea of the woman being an intruder, he returned to questioning England's mental health once he claimed the woman was constantly disappearing then reappearing. Japan did not protest when England decided he finally wanted to go outside for some fresh air.

England excused himself outside, seeing the same woman staring at him from across the stone garden. Her violet eyes and unreadable expression somewhat unsettled him, but nevertheless he made his way over to her. He continued going further down a nearby hallway, finding himself outside again and stood near the edge of the floorboards. There was a cherry tree in the center of the garden, petals drifting down to the earth. England kept silent for a few minutes before finally speaking in Japanese.

"You can come out now. You must want to talk, right?"

The island nation heard a small chuckle. Seemingly out of nowhere, the woman appeared on his left, taking slow, elegant strides.

She certainly didn't look Japanese. Most of her blond hair was coiled up into the mob cap on her head while the sections up front were tied by bows. Her purple dress was complimented by white gloves, her dainty fingers twirling around the handle of a lacy pink parasol. The woman's presence felt ethereal, but also hinted at something shocking.

To any other being, it would seem strange. But every nation's representative has a sort of sense. A sense that allowed them to identify one of their kind. Once two representatives came into contact, they would instantly know.

This woman was a nation.

Or, well, something close to that. Then again, England had never heard of a ghostly country before. Either way, there was no mistaking in what he felt from her.

The woman detected England's awe and chuckled once more. The folded paper fan she held hid her mouth. "My my, I'm quite surprised you're handling this so well. But then again, you are quite accustomed to these sort of otherworldly things, aren't you?" It seemed she spoke English, and in a near-perfect British accent, at that.

"For the most part. Although I don't think I've ever met someone like you before."

The woman moved the fan to reveal the smile she wore, small yet still giving off the feel of a full grin. The type of smile that said 'I have many secrets, 99% of which I will never tell you'. Her lips painted ruby red parted to speak. "Why, thank you."

"... You aren't young enough to be a new country." Strange aura or not, he was an English gentleman, so he was careful to pick the right words as to not offend her. But because he had never seen or heard about her before, he just needed to find out more.

"That's correct."

"And... this is your house?"

"Ah, no. Technically not. But my home is very close to here. Very, very close. You know the meaning of the word 'youkai' quite well, do you not?"

"Yes." England hesitated for a moment. "But... if your place is close to here... then you must also be acquainted to _him_."

She nodded. England turned to look at her, realizing she had fallen silent, no longer smirking amusedly. The woman instead gazed upon the large cherry tree quivering in the wind. The moon bathed her youthful features in cold light, but the wistful expression she wore told England she really was quite old.

"My people had slowly been disappearing, one by one. Surely you know that." Now the blonde took on a tone calmer than before. "The westerners from a whole other world came here, and with the world's advancements, left the people's belief. Suddenly youkai weren't all that frightening anymore, and gods weren't needed anymore. Everything I had built was just cast away like an old fairytale that has been told one too many times."

"Soon, _he_ forgot about me too. Became convinced that I had been an illusion fabricated by humans who knew no science. Even if he pretends to believe, he truly doesn't..." Her voice held a hint of sorrow.

England felt hesitant to say anything. But he felt he needed to say something, when the peculiar nation in front of him had poured her heart out. "...How have you survived, like this? If all of this had happened... how are you still here?"

She turned to the nation, and her mouth curled into a smile, this time much more gentle.

"Gensokyo. The Land of Illusion." The woman spoke fondly of the name.

"It isn't anywhere near here - in another dimension, hidden, where we can still thrive. Without having to worry if we will still be there the next day or not. I'm just satisfied that we have somewhere to exist."

England let the wind rustle through his hair and stared at the cherry tree. He frowned. "When I first saw _him_ with my own two eyes centuries ago, it was so obvious. He was completely engulfed in the world of gods and spirits, he lived on their - _your_ \- existence. There's no doubt you two must have been close. He was... like your other half. How can you stand it? Now that everything is like this."

The taller female looked to the ground.

"The best answer is probably 'I can't'. All I can do is watch him and make sure he's still okay. Because no matter how loud I scream, no matter how long I beg and no matter how hard I cry, Japan will never hear me." Her eyes shone with sadness, her tone only now faltering.

"It's kind of funny, because I used to be 'Japan' too." This woman really was beautiful, even with her furrowed eyebrows and watering eyes.

"Now, I'm Yukari Yakumo. An entirely different being."

England wasn't sure what the best thing to say was. Yet still, without thinking, he opened his mouth. "Well, nothing lasts forever." A young American flashed through his mind, and his eyes dimmed. "Change... hurts. I know. But we just have to hope for the best and do whatever we can. What happened was horrible, but... in the end, your people are safe, aren't they?"

"And I'm sure... someday, you two will be able to meet again."

Yukari looked into the other nation's eyes, astounded. "H-he... has you and the other countries now, doesn't he?" She wiped away something at her eyes, smiling genuinely for the first time.

"Yeah. He does."

"Then... can you promise me - promise me that you'll protect my brother, when I'm not there for him?"

England took one look at Yukari's eyes, seeing the emotion, the warmth, the affection that they held. There was only one answer he could give.

"I promise."

"... Thank you."

Immediately after, the two heard another voice, calling for England. Both turned their heads in surprise, Yukari turning her whole body to face the voice. England blinked only once, and she had vanished, replaced by a concerned Japan.

"England-san, are you alright? You were out for quite a while..."

Said nation laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "O-oh, is that so? Haha, I was just caught up in looking at the tree... so I lost track of the time talking to myself... ah..." It was a poor excuse by any standard, but Japan just politely nodded.

"Well, please come back inside. I have your futon set up for you."

"Yes, thank you..."

As England followed along, all he could do was stare at the back of Japan's head. Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't realize the Asian mumbling to himself.

"Strange... I could have sworn I heard a woman's voice as well..."

* * *

 **A/N: I updated this fic so that it makes more sense, so now I don't have that explanation down here anymore. My god, I posted this back in July... it seriously took me NINE WHOLE MONTHS to do editing afterwards. Sigh... my writing improved since then, though, so I guess it's not that bad. There are probably some unedited parts that could be written better, but for the time being, this improved version is what I have. I also put some more impact to the climax of this, so hopefully it was much more satisfying.**

 **While Japan is a nation, he is also a person, so pertaining to his memory loss of Yukari, a part of him still subconsciously feels there's something missing. His memories of her are probably just buried deep down or something.**

 **Yukari's now learned that she has to let go of those lingering feelings for the days of the past and look to the future. But she may or may not continue to hold on to her secret habit of watching *cough*stalking*cough* Japan.**

 **Also, my personal headcanon is that nations identify most with their country names, not the human names given by Himaruya. So in any upcoming fics you probably won't see the countries' human names being used often.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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